Our Burglar
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: Bilbo's enthusiasm for Rivendell, particularly the elves, does not sit well with the dwarves. So one by one they broach the subject with Lord Elrond. Threatening? Ha! Who said anything about making threats? Movieverse.


Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

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Our Burglar

First to grab a private moment with Lord Elrond were the young princes Fili and Kili. The older silently stood with a stern look that highlighted clearly the resemblance he shared with his uncle. The younger one fidgeted, appearing greatly displeased. There was a staring contest amongst the three for a long moment.

"Mister Boggins is _our_ burglar!" Kili burst out, raising his clenched fists. "You elves can't have him!"

"Consider this our first and last warning!" Fili added before dragging his brother away lest he do something too foolish.

Next had been little polite Ori, who nervously approached the elven lord. Determinedly he lifted his chin and frowned up at the tall being. "Excuse me, Master Elrond, but it is terrible manners to try to steal someone's hobbit. Please order your elves to stop, or else I'll use my slingshot on you!" he threatened, waving the small aforementioned weapon above his head.

"Stop serving such apparently delicious dishes to Master Baggins. Or…," Bombur faltered. It would nearly break his heart to do it, yet Bilbo was far more important. "Or," he glared darkly at Elrond, "I'll wreck your lovely kitchens!"

"If one more elf lays so much as a finger on the burglar, _you_ will be answering to _me_," Thorin's voice was low, majestic, and furious as he poked Lord Elrond in the chest to emphasize his point.

"I always hit my mark when I throw my small axes and knives. It is an important skill to possess, especially to defend cute hobbits from certain thieving elves. Did I mention I never miss a throw with my weapons?" Dwalin asked their host seated at the end of the table, his huge grin wolfish.

"Now see here. The only one who is allowed to startle the little hobbit is, well, me. Kindly tell the lassies to stop ambushing him with tickle attacks! Or ye'll be on the receiving end of my hat. And let me assure ye, ye do not want _that_," Bofur quietly advised, his braids, beard, and (was it possible?!) furry hat all bristling angrily.

"It is quite a simple thing to slip something into your drink. Not that I would do such a thing, not if those wise elves increase their distance from the hobbit by twenty more feet. Poison…so, so easy," Oin mused, glancing at the elven lord over his teacup.

Lord Elrond could not make head or tail of Bifur's lengthy rant, though his frown and flashing eyes indicated his anger. However, there was no misunderstanding when the dwarf fell suddenly quiet and, holding the elf's gaze, slowly drew a finger across his throat. He had the pleasure of being the first to get a reaction from the normally composed lord by way of a loud gulp.

"Stop serenading our hobbit with all that blasted music and singing, or I'll go after them with my knitting needles!" Dori roared in frustration.

"I love my little brother, despite what some people think. So, if I hear about how his afternoon in your library is spoiled yet _again_ by elves interrupting and making off with the Halfling, that will be the cause for the disappearance of certain items from your bedchamber," Nori warned, looking wickedly thrilled at the possibility. Elrond double-checked the lock on his door after that.

"Family is important. Surely you can understand, being a father and all. Master Baggins, though not a dwarf, is part of our company, our _family_. And you just don't separate family, at least without realizing you'll be facing consequences. And if Bilbo abandons us to set up house here, there shall be dire consequences, my lord. So I would think twice if I were you!" Gloin's thunderous frown turned into a fond look. "By the way, have I shown you my young Gimli's portrait?"

Balin looked at his host with pity. "I am not a warrior, and am getting on in years. But if the lad fails to leave Rivendell with us, if he isn't there to lend an occasional shoulder to lean on while walking over the rough terrain or a sweet cuddle to cheer me up…then you shall have the honor of witnessing first-hand my hidden talent for taking down enemies armed only with plates and forks!"

Lord Elrond could only stare, eyebrows reaching his hairline, when confronted by the frantic wizard. "You must put it to a stop, my friend! Make it stop now! Otherwise _I_ shall have a small dwarven revolt on my hands – something I had not planned for at all on this adventure. And then I will have to challenge _you_ to a duel of magic. And believe me," Gandalf's voice and expression became deadly grim, "that time you would not win!"

* * *

"Right here, Bilbo, if you please," Dori ordered, acting as spokesperson for the group, his voice leaving no room for protest. Around him the other dwarves agreed with vigorous nods, stern come-here looks, and repeated pointing of fingers to the hobbit's bedding laid out in middle of the bedrolls.

"_Now_ do you believe they consider you a friend?" Gandalf whispered to the stunned hobbit, exasperated. He rolled his eyes and grumbled into his beard when Bilbo simply looked between him and the dwarves repeatedly, doing a fine impression of a fish pulled out of water.

In the end Ori and Fili had to come to bodily lift and carry the hobbit over to his place. Half protesting at being tucked into his bed by _all_ the dwarves, Bilbo blushed deeply, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. Once all thirteen dwarves were settled, surrounding him, an affectionate sigh escaped the small creature, and he shut his eyes, grinning when he caught Oin's sleepily murmur:

"Our burglar!"

THE END


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